


Behind Closed Doors

by mistleto3



Series: Sarumi smut [5]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sarumi Fest 2016, Smut, misaru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misaki and Saruhiko get intimate in Saruhiko’s office at the Sceptre 4 headquarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> This fic follows on from a previous misaru smut fic I wrote titled _[Somnophilia,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7470351)_ in which Saruhiko has a sex dream about Misaki fucking him over his desk. It’s not essential to read them both, but some reference is made to the events of the previous fic. 
> 
> This fic can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/147394315419/behind-closed-doors)
> 
> For Sarumi Fest 2016.

_“Misaki, it’s Saruhiko. I think I left my PDA on the bedside table, could you bring it to the office?”_

Misaki received the message from a number saved in his phone as ‘Hidaka Akira’, which was a name he couldn’t quite put a face to. Obviously it was one of Saruhiko’s co-workers, but he wasn’t sure which one; they all looked the same in his opinion- tall pretty boys with fancy hair.

He padded through to their bedroom and instantly spotted the phone lying on the bedside table, still plugged into its charging cord. Misaki snatched it up and texted back a quick _“On my way,”_ then picked up his skateboard and left their apartment.

The Sceptre 4 headquarters didn't intimidate him as much as they used to, though he still found the elaborate, mansion-like building to be unnecessarily grand. Still, he’d been here enough times, delivering forgotten lunches and that sort of thing to his boyfriend, that the apprehension he used to feel crossing the vast courtyard had eased, and the old associations that he had with this place as the last place his old King went before he met his death on Ashinaka island had faded. It was just a building to him now, especially since Homra and the Blues had started cooperating more. He crossed the gleaming tiles of the grand foyer with purpose, and nobody so much as gave him a second glance- they were used to his presence by now, and many of the Blue clansmen even seemed to welcome him- he received a few nodded greetings in the corridor (though he only knew the name of one of the people who said hello to him). He supposed it was because they were happy that Saruhiko finally had someone to look after him- he was terrible at feeding himself if left to his own devices, so the occasional appearance of a Red clansmen amongst their midst, usually clutching a brown paper bag containing a bento box, was tolerable if it meant that their colleague was finally receiving proper nutrition.

By now, Misaki could navigate the lavish hallways with relative ease compared to his first visit, and he only got lost once on the way to Saruhiko’s office. When he arrived at the small room tucked away in the corner of the building, he rapped on the door with his knuckles and called through:

“Oi, it’s Yata.”

“Door’s unlocked,” came the reply, and Misaki pushed it open.

The shutter blinds were closed as usual, and Misaki sighed in exasperation. “No wonder you’re so pale all the time if you don’t let any natural light in,” he grumbled, handing Saruhiko the PDA.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue at the nagging, then took the device. “Thanks.” As he spoke, he leaned up slightly in his seat, and Misaki obligingly bent down to kiss him, though he was taken somewhat by surprise when Saruhiko cupped his jaw to hold him there, extending what Misaki thought would be a quick peck into a longer, slower kiss. He didn’t complain though, running his fingers through Saruhiko’s hair as their lips moved against each other, then parted, allowing Saruhiko’s tongue to slide forwards. Misaki gasped quietly into his mouth, trying his best to ignore the heat beginning to squirm in his gut- now was not the time to get horny; he’d just end up fidgety and unsatisfied for the rest of the day.

Saruhiko didn’t seem to have considered that, though. His hand had found its way to Misaki’s hip and he pulled him down to straddle his lap, all the while never breaking the kiss. Misaki had to stifle a groan as Saruhiko nipped gently at his lower lip. Finally, they broke apart, both of them short of breath. A red stain blossomed across Misaki’s cheeks.

“Damn it, Saruhiko, you’re gonna give me blue balls...” Misaki said between little gasps for air.

“I had no intention of not finishing what I started,” Saruhiko replied with a raised eyebrow.

“…You want to have sex _here?”_

“Lock the door.”

“Saruhiko!” Misaki protested in a stage-whisper.

“The walls are pretty thick; nobody will hear us,” Saruhiko reassured, his hand wandering down Misaki’s abdomen to cup the bulge growing in the front of his shorts.

Misaki hissed in pleasure as Saruhiko palmed him through the fabric, and gave in to the desire kindling in his stomach. He jumped off Saruhiko’s lap and hurried over to the door to lock it, then turned back to face his lover, who was watching him with a smirk on his face, and prowled back over to his desk. Misaki crawled back on top of him and kissed him roughly, tangling his fingers in his hair and sliding his tongue forward imperatively to meet Saruhiko’s. A quiet sound of surprise issued from the back of Saruhiko’s throat at how brazen he was being, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he leaned back in the chair and submitted to the kiss, relaxing as he allowed Misaki’s lips to stray from his own and wander across his jaw and down his neck. His fingers fisted in the back of Misaki’s shirt as Misaki’s found their way to the lapels of Saruhiko’s jacket and pushed the garment off his shoulders.

“Does all this have something to do with that dream you had a couple of weeks ago?” Misaki asked between kisses

“Nn... maybe...” he replied with a smirk.

“You should have told me; I’d have brought lube so we could have acted it out.”

Saruhiko reached for the drawer of his desk and pulled it open, and amongst the clutter of stationary was a bottle of lubricant, still shrink-wrapped in plastic, and a pair of handcuffs. Misaki raised an eyebrow at him- the unopened lube had obviously been purchased recently, and Misaki had a sneaking suspicion that it had been bought specifically for the purpose of making Saruhiko’s wet dream a reality.

“...Did you leave your PDA at home on purpose to get me to come to your office specifically so we could screw here?” he inquired.

“Yes.”

“You’re really dirty when you want to be, you know that?” Misaki murmured into Saruhiko’s ear, and he received a wide, mischievous smirk in return. He slid off Saruhiko’s lap once more, then pulled him up out of the chair none-too-gently by his wrist and spun him around to face away from himself. In one swift motion, he captured his wrists in the handcuffs, savouring the sound they made as they clicked shut. He then turned Saruhiko around to face him once more, kissing him briefly before sitting down in the desk chair that Saruhiko had just vacated and pulling his boyfriend down to kneel between his thighs.

Saruhiko had a playful look in his eyes as he watched Misaki unfasten his fly, and as soon as his cock had been freed from his underwear, Saruhiko leaned forward to lick up its underside. Misaki drew in a gasp through his teeth, tangling his fingers in Saruhiko’s hair and watching as he slid his mouth down around his erection, teasingly slowly. He bucked his hips a little, desperate for more of the wet heat, and dutifully, Saruhiko lowered his head the rest of the way, until he could fit no more of him into his mouth.

“Good boy…”

Tightening his grip on his hair, Misaki lifted Saruhiko’s head slowly, then pushed it back down again, moving it up and down on his cock as though it were a sex toy. Saruhiko let out a low moan around him, and judging by the expression on his face and the shiver that ran down his spine, he seemed to be greatly enjoying the treatment. A faint blush had begun to colour his cheeks, and his eyes were half-lidded with arousal. He kept his gaze locked with Misaki’s, and the corners of his lips were turned upwards slightly, as though he was smirking around Misaki’s cock.

“Fuck… get up,” Misaki commanded, pulling Saruhiko to his feet by a fistful of his hair. Saruhiko yelped in pained pleasure, biting his lip to try and keep his voice down.

Misaki swept the papers on Saruhiko’s desk aside to clear a space, then bent him over it and yanked down his trousers, grateful for his tendency to go without underwear. He made a grab for the lubricant and tore off the plastic packaging, then slicked his fingers with it hurriedly and slid one inside his lover. Saruhiko gasped, clamping his teeth around his bottom lip at the sensation and pressing his cheek against the wood.

“Hurry up, damn it,” he said snippily.

Misaki could do nothing but oblige his desperation, and he pressed another digit into him and curled it, searching for his sweet spot. The stifled whine that rose in the back of Saruhiko’s throat as he bucked his hips suddenly towards Misaki’s hand told him when he’d found it.

“Yes…” The word seemed to catch in Saruhiko’s throat.

Misaki’s free hand snaked around Saruhiko’s hip to grip his cock and pump it in time with the thrusting of his fingers. He stared intently at what he could see of Saruhiko’s face, watching it twist as he bit back his moans.

Misaki leaned forward to murmur in his ear: “I want to hear you…”

Saruhiko obediently let go of the last shred of his self-control and released a long, low groan of pleasure as Misaki eased a third finger inside him. He tugged weakly at the restraints behind his back, his fingers curling and uncurling, as though seeking for something to grab onto.

“Fuck… I’m ready,” he hissed impatiently, then whined at the unhurried pace with which Misaki withdrew his fingers. Misaki smirked at the sound, tugging up the back of Saruhiko’s shirt and wasting no time in positioning himself behind him and pressing the head of his cock to Saruhiko’s entrance. Saruhiko rocked his hips backwards in yearning, a gleam of hunger in his eyes.

Misaki paused for a moment, savouring the yelp of impatience that rolled off Saruhiko’s tongue; he loved seeing him so needy. However, there was only so long he could resist. After a few seconds, he gave in to the heat pulsating in his abdomen and finally leaned forward to slide himself inside his lover, a low groan, almost of relief, rising in his throat as he did so. He seized Saruhiko’s bound wrists between his fingers and leaned forward to press his chest to his arched back. His lips hovered close to Saruhiko’s ear, and his breath ghosted across it as he groaned against his jaw. Saruhiko’s hips were already bucking keenly, and Misaki couldn’t resist indulging him. With slow, deep movements, he drew back and began to thrust into him.

It was less than a minute before Saruhiko started pleading for more, and between his groans, the words: “Damn it… harder…” slipped past his lips. By his tone, Misaki could tell that Saruhiko was trying to be demanding, but the pleasure that dripped from his voice made him sound more like he was begging than anything else. Misaki loved seeing him like this, seeing his inhibitions crumble and his submissive side come out to play. The moans would flow more freely from his lips, he’d indulge his masochism, he’d let his ecstasy show through on his features in the way his mouth fell open and his eyes screwed closed and his fingers grabbed for something to clutch onto.

It was the hottest thing in the world to Misaki, when Saruhiko was in so much pleasure that his pride fell away and he admitted that he just wanted more of his partner, that he wanted him harder, faster, deeper. Knowing that he could make someone who was normally so reserved abandon his pride, let his lewd side show, and disintegrate into a begging, screaming mess filled Misaki with a sense of pride.

Unable to resist the exquisite lust in Saruhiko’s voice, Misaki gladly obeyed him, quickening the pace of his thrusts and holding on to his wrists tightly as leverage to allow himself to push deeper, harder. A carnal sound, almost a growl, escaped Saruhiko’s lips at the sensation, and he rolled his hips backwards towards Misaki’s desperately.

“G-god…” Misaki breathed, both at the pleasure radiating outwards from where their bodies met, and at the sounds tumbling past Saruhiko’s lips, the voracious, ecstatic streams of the word “yes!” repeated over and over with every thrust until it lost all meaning. The links of the handcuffs jangled in time with their movements, and Misaki could feel Saruhiko’s thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

“I should fuck you in your uniform more often…” Misaki remarked, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he spoke, though his voice wavered slightly with exertion and arousal. The sight of Saruhiko pinned under him with his shirt and waistcoat crinkled as they rode up and his trousers pooled around his ankles to reveal just the smooth, pale skin of his ass and thighs was something to behold. His glasses were slightly askew where his face was pressed against the desk.

Saruhiko failed to reply, long past the point of coherence. The cries and whimpers that poured from his mouth were formless, and it seemed that all he could do was buck his hips backwards against Misaki’s as he gasped for air. He sounded almost tormented, half-wild at the rough treatment. Misaki’s free hand found its way into his hair, fisting in the dark locks to pull his head up.

“Misaki…” he managed to spit out the word through gritted teeth, but his voice was thin and high-pitched. “Gonna…”

That was all he was capable of putting into words; his body felt electrified with pleasure to the extent that it didn’t feel like his own, and it almost seemed to be moving independently- he could do nothing to stop the desperate bucking of his hips, or the flood of humiliating sounds escaping his lips. He was completely lost in the sensation; the only things that existed to him in that moment were Misaki and the almost torturous levels of pleasure that rippled through his body as his partner slammed into his sweet spot over and over, until he couldn’t remember his own name.

Misaki swore at the exaltation in Saruhiko’s voice and the way his body twitched and writhed under him, and he felt his own orgasm building to break point in the pit of his stomach. Feeling Saruhiko begin to tense around him, Misaki reached between his thighs to wrap his hand around his cock, just in time for the cum to spurt into his palm and drip down his fingers. Saruhiko’s lips parted in a silent cry of bliss, and the sight of the euphoria on his face dragged Misaki over the edge with him. With a strangled whimper, he buried himself hilt-deep inside his lover and came, stars bursting in his vision as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them shaking and struggling for breath, until Misaki finally regained the strength to unfasten the handcuffs and pull out, collapsing in the desk chair beside him. Saruhiko turned his head to face him, his eyes seeming to glimmer with the afterglow, and he met Misaki’s gaze just in time to see him lick the cum off his fingers. A shiver rolled down Saruhiko’s spine at the sight.

“You do realise this is going to be a bitch to clean up don’t you?” Saruhiko grumbled, though the edge in his tone was somewhat dulled by the way he was panting between words.

“Sorry…” Misaki offered him a sheepish look, grabbing a tissue from a box on the desk to clean himself up before fastening his shorts up once more, then he got to his feet to press a kiss to Saruhiko’s forehead, who was still half-lying on his desk, his breaths still coming quick and shallow. Saruhiko lifted his head to catch his lips briefly.

“Are you okay?” Misaki asked gently, concerned that he might have gotten a bit carried away and been too rough.

Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m more than okay,” he replied, his voice still husky as he caught his breath.

Emboldened by his reassurance, Misaki adopted a teasing tone. “Was that how you imagined it?”

“Better,” Saruhiko said with a faint smirk on his lips. He stole another kiss, then, with what appeared to be an immense effort, he lifted himself back to his feet, yanked his trousers back up, and made his hurried and slightly bow-legged walk of shame to the nearest bathroom. Misaki waited there for him, sprawled in the chair as his heartrate slowly returned to normal.

A knock at the door turned his blood to ice.

“Fushimi-kun?” Misaki recognised the voice coming from the corridor of that of Munakata Reisi, and a stream of expletives sounded in his head. He scrambled for something to say to make him go away, but no words made themselves available to him, and even if they had, surely Reisi would recognise that they weren’t being spoken in the voice of his subordinate.

Evidently, the Blue King took the silence as a signal to enter (of course he would- it’s not like Saruhiko would ever answer the door), and Misaki froze, feeling the dread mounting in his gut as he watched handle turn and the light from the corridor flood into the room.

A mildly surprised look flickered across Reisi’s features as he saw the Red clansman sitting in his employee’s seat, but his expression smoothed into a polite smile almost instantly. It was in that moment that Misaki became acutely aware of the musky smell of sex that permeated the air in the dim room. The desk was still disordered, and the handcuffs lay discarded in the centre of the space that had been haphazardly cleared. The bottle of lubricant had been dropped in a prominent position in the middle of the open drawer, and Saruhiko’s jacket was pooled in a crumpled pile on the ground.

“Oh, Yata-kun, what brings you here?” His tone was courteous.

“U-uh… Saruhiko forgot his PDA so I was just bringing it to him…” Misaki cleared his throat, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks as he saw those piercing blue eyes examining the state of the room.

There was a short, pregnant silence before he spoke again. “And where is Fushimi-kun?”

“He just… went to the bathroom…” Misaki couldn’t meet his gaze.

As if on cue, Reisi turned his head at the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and Saruhiko joined him in the doorframe with a click of his tongue.

“Captain, what do you want?” Saruhiko’s tone was bored.

“I merely wanted to ascertain that you’d received the memo I sent out this morning- I hadn’t received a response.”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

“Good. That will be all then. It was nice to see you again, Yata-kun,” he said, nodding in Misaki’s direction.

Misaki returned a stiff nod, though he could barely hear what Reisi was saying over the sound of his own pulse thundering in his ears.

“Oh, and Fushimi-kun. I must remind you that the use of Sceptre 4-issued equipment for unsanctioned purposes is not permitted. You shall need to purchase your own restraints.”

“Understood,” Fushimi sighed, not meeting Reisi’s eye.

Reisi bid them both farewell and closed the door behind him, and as soon as it clicked shut, Misaki burst into a fit of nervous giggles. He rose out of the chair to hide his burning face in Saruhiko’s shirt until the mortified laughter finally subsided enough for him to speak.

“I-I’m gonna go home now…” he stammered, and Saruhiko kissed him on the forehead, smirking at his mortification.

Misaki hugged him tightly, tiptoeing to press his lips to Saruhiko’s. The kiss broke after a long moment, and the pair leaned their foreheads against one another’s before Saruhiko whispered:

“We should do that again some time.”

Misaki gave a quick, bashful nod. His earlier dominance seemed to have vanished in a puff of smoke, and his shyness had returned in full force after the encounter with Reisi. He stole another kiss, wrapping his arms around Saruhiko’s shoulders to extend the contact for as long as he could before dropping down onto the flats of his feet once more.

“See ya at home,” he murmured, his voice still thick with embarrassment.

Saruhiko nodded in acknowledgement and returned to his seat to clear up the mess on his desk.

Misaki paused in the doorway to call back over his shoulder: “Love you.”

“Love you too.” A smile played across Saruhiko’s lips as Misaki closed the door behind him.

 


End file.
